


away from here

by orphan_account



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Angst, Dark Stripper AU, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, KisuHaru - Freeform, M/M, More tags along the way?, Smut, implied sourin, makoharu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:51:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3186185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto has mysteriously disappeared for years now, and Haru is left shattered when the police tell him his best friend and lover can't be found. After trying to deal with it through drinking excessively, Haru is taken in by Kisumi, a club owner as well as a drug dealer, and his world is turned around completely when he is exposed to the underworld of Tokyo. An unexpected turn of events cause both extremes of the underworld to pull Haru to either side, and his life just may be in danger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I thought this was a good idea. I swear. But I apparently write really good angst and then I reward people? So many people who know about the things I have planned for this fanfic and they have encouraged me and I am so thankful for all of you, really. Thank you to tumblr user harnburguer for reading the preview I gave her, and I hope she loves what I have planned for this. I hope I will provide the small fandom of KisuHaru some of the relief they've been looking for, by writing this fanfic! Thank you to tumblr user corsicanchevalier for offering to beta another one of my works -- you're truly a wonder. I hope you guys like this one.

Everywhere he looked, there was smoke.

By the exit, near the stage, at the bar. He watched as older, heavily intoxicated men drank their scotch and opened their laps up for someone to sit on. He watched their disgusting smiles, the way their lips would lift and their eyes would light up with perverse thoughts and innuendos. They touched and fondled gently, and it made him nauseous -- it made him afraid of people, especially people like _them_. All kinds of men came here, the police, lawyers, but businessmen made up the majority. His eyes glazed over as he watched a vaguely familiar face slip into one of their laps, their smile wide -- but it didn’t touch their eyes.

It could never touch their eyes.

Haru bit his lip as he turned around and began walking, away from the swarm of people. Tonight was an especially loud and stuffy night -- it was New Years Eve, after all. Those who didn’t have a family, or real friends were here knocking back drinks and smoking cigars until they couldn’t feel their throats. Sucking in a small breath through his nose, Haru turned the doorknob to his private room, wanting to find solace in some whiskey and quiet -- but someone was standing in the middle of his room, grinning.

“What are you doing here?” Haru asked, his voice low.

“Came to give you a new dose.”

Tilting his head, Haru felt remorse fill his chest. The man who stood before him -- the man who wanted to give him a new dose of whatever drugs he had bought that week -- was the club owner. He had found Haru a few years ago, absolutely piss drunk in an alleyway in another part of Tokyo. He had been crying and calling someone’s name -- and so, it was only natural to assume that he had suffered an awful break up. Haru let him think this, even after he sobered up -- because explaining what really happened would require finding his heart again. He promised himself he wouldn’t try to hold onto it anymore.

In the dark, this man’s bright pink hair was almost like guidance. Except for the fact that it was guidance for obscene, illegal doings. The man’s purple eyes bore into Haru, not devoid of emotion, but Haru knew how kind those types of eyes might seem at _first_. That would always be the first step to get you to fall into their trap, and once you fell, you couldn’t get out. He was a predator, but he didn’t want you to think that. He went for your throat when you trusted him.

“Kisumi, you already gave me some yesterday.”

“This is a different kind,” he said, his tone optimistic.

“How many times are you going to inject me with these things?”

The room went silent, and Haru knew he had made a mistake. While Kisumi, in his own strange way, was kind, he was a real threat when you defied him. Before Haru could blink, Kisumi was gripping his jaw forcefully, his fingers digging into Haru’s bones. He roughly pulled Haru’s chin up, and Haru felt himself shrink back -- the man was too close. His mouth was just a breath away.

“As long as you’re here, I’ll give you whatever the fuck I want.”

Haru began slowly raising his arm to loosen the grip on his jaw, when Kisumi inched closer, dangerously close to Haru’s lips.

“Remember who saved you all those years ago. _You’re mine_ , now.”

Kisumi was rough, despite his appearances. Haru was afraid -- each time Kisumi got angry, each time he yelled at other people, and especially now, when he was trying to give Haru a new way to destroy his body-- Kisumi was not someone to mess around with. What scared Haru the most -- the very thing that made Haru’s bones shiver and made him feel like running, sometimes -- was when Kisumi touched him.

He was always rough. Though, Haru had to admit -- he was beginning to _like_ it, simply because for a change, he got to feel something different than when he snorted drugs up his nose.

Kisumi removed his fingers and brushed Haru’s hair, his expression just the slightest bit thoughtful.

“There’s a new needle in your drawer. Come out after ten minutes, you’re everyone’s favorite.”

“Okay,” Haru muttered as Kisumi closed the door behind him.

At this point, Haru felt as though he didn’t have a choice. If he left this life, Kisumi would surely find him. Would surely give him _hell_ for leaving in the first place. If he wanted to leave, he had to think it through. He had to get away from Kisumi -- but that in itself was difficult, since the man had access to his room at the club, which incidentally, was where he was located, for most of the long, dwindling nights. He had tried to argue it was a violation of privacy, tried to stand his ground -- but Kisumi flashed him a sweet smile while uttering bloodthirsty words, and Haru left it at that.

It was just one more thing to endure.

Haru sank into the chair before his mirror, and stared at his reflection. His eyes were tired -- the bags were most definitely there. He looked washed out, sad, so incredibly _miserable_ , and yet, he found himself reaching for the concealer, making himself pretty once again. He sighed as his fingers brushed against his cheekbone, and for a moment, he remembered a warm touch -- big, soft hands that cradled his face.

He shook his head, ridding himself of memories.

In this hell, Haru knew he wasn’t allowed to have any, because they would only destroy him.

Sniffling, Haru reached for the tissues in his drawer and blew his nose. The winds were getting colder, and Haru wasn’t eating enough. There was also the issue of Kisumi’s drug dealing -- he apparently felt that every single one of his workers had to be as out of it as he was. Especially Haru. Sometimes, Kisumi pretended to be as young and naive as some of his workers and would strut on the dancefloor, and because he wasn’t _bad_ to look at, men flocked to him and tried to take him home. He only did this when he was incredibly optimistic that his business was going well -- which, incidentally, was every other week.

Haru prayed that tonight wouldn’t be one of those nights.

 _Praying_ , he thought, _what a funny way to admit you’re still human._

The hairs on his arm stood on end when he glanced towards the drawer, the shiny needle seeming non-threatening. He had done this so many times already -- it had been three years since Kisumi found him, anyway. Three years since the day he felt as though his life was sucked out of him. He reached for it, his fingers clammy and fumbling -- he would always feel nervous every time he did this. Kisumi had already filled the needle up and Haru stared at it passively. He glanced towards the mirror again, and in the back of his head, he sensed fear.

More than anything, it was the fear that one day, while he was pleasing people with his hips, he would fall to the floor and stop breathing.

Feeling around with a finger, Haru found the spot he was meant to breach. Each time he did this, he apologized. He thought of so many different ways to say it, to think it, to show it. He knew exactly who he was apologizing to -- and it wasn’t himself. At this point in his life, Haru couldn’t bring himself to be a person. He didn’t have anything or anyone to turn to, anymore. He had no _right_ to call himself a person, or so he thought. He tapped once, twice, then thrice, before slowly injecting the needle into his vein, a kind of high surging through him. He cleaned the needle and set it back in his drawer, vaguely thinking that there’d be another one there tomorrow, anyway.

He sniffled through his nose as he stared at his reflection.

He knew how miserable his eyes had looked since he began this life, but they had never made him look like a corpse. He brushed his fingers through his hair one last time, pushing all thoughts of sadness, all thoughts of remorse, out of his head. He stood up and began getting dressed, putting on black garters attached to ridiculously tight underwear. He slipped into a pair of shorts and a shirt that revealed too much chest. He never looked in the mirror after he got dressed -- the one time he did, he stared at his own reflection for so long that he completely missed his set.

Kisumi had chewed his ear out that time, and Haru wasn’t willing to let that happen again.

The music boomed through the walls as Haru closed the door shut behind him, locking it. It had never happened to him before, but Kisumi had told him that sometimes, other people stole things from whoever the star was. Haru didn’t have any prized possessions anymore, but that wasn’t enough of an excuse. Kisumi’s voice could be heard as he entered the backstage, taking one final breath, plastering on that fake smile that everyone seemed to love.

“And now, gentlemen -- the man you’ve been waiting for! Nanase Haruka!”

Stepping out onto the stage, slurs of his name were uttered upon the filthy lips of sleazy men. Placing his hands on the pole before him, Haru flashed a coy smile, allowing his eyes to appear seductive as he dropped low, his back arching. All their eyes were on him, and their expressions were so _thirsty._ Though he didn’t like his job, Haru knew he was _good_ at it. It sickened him, even as he wrapped his legs around the pole and swung himself around, even as he bent over and teasingly pulled down his shorts. He threw them into the crowd and they didn’t even flinch.

Their eyes were all fixed on one part of him or another. Many of them watched his legs, then moved their hungry gazes up to his thighs.

Getting on his knees or grinding his hips slowly always seemed to make these men’s jaws drop to the floor. Haru knew they were imagining him, he knew they were thinking about him when they were at their day jobs, when they were alone at home, when they were distracted at work and needed a way to de-stress. He was the driving force of their fantasies, and the fact that none of them were able to _touch_ him made him even more desirable to them -- as though he was an object. He watched their depraved eyes and continued to teasingly pull bits of clothing off, grinning as he watched them.

The most exhilarating feeling was when he pulled off the tight leather underwear.

Whistles and catcalls spilled flooded out of their mouths as Haru kicked everything to the side, arching his back and working his way around the pole. He knew that he was always the last set of the night, that those who stayed this late were those who knew him -- and if they didn’t before, they did now. They requested lap dances from him sometimes, and Kisumi would always kindly tell them that he was off limits to the touch, that he was a _special_ kind of dancer. People generally took it to mean that Kisumi was sleeping with Haru, and, well --

They weren’t _wrong_ , per se.

Haru smiled seductively as the music came to a lazy fadeout and the applause was so goddamn _loud_ that he cringed a little. He gave a courteous bow -- Kisumi told him that manners were essential -- and he walked backstage knowing the pink-haired man would be waiting there, his stupid grin spread across his face. Haru stared at Kisumi with caution, not sure whether he should move or not, but when Kisumi took one step closer, his body relaxed.

“You did great,” Kisumi said enthusiastically.

“You taught me how to,” Haru smirked, the effects of the drugs making him a little light-headed.  
  
“Ah, technically, my other little dancers did.”

Haru glared at him.

“Oh, come on! You know you’re my favorite,” Kisumi smiled as he stroked Haru’s jaw.

Despite how Kisumi sometimes treated him, Haru had to admit that he was a pretty wild lover. Eccentric. He was the owner of a club and generally in this society, he would be seen as a thug and even cruel -- which he was, at times -- but when it came to the people who worked for him, he protected them with everything he had. When Haru first became a stripper, Kisumi told him that every other person in the club also had a past. Haru wasn’t sure he believed him until he actually spent time with them -- and Kisumi was right.

They were all taken in because of a particular situation in their lives.

Haru just happened to be someone who didn't get the short end of the stick, compared to them.

“Can I go home now?” Haru purred seductively, his body buzzing with something similar to ecstasy.

“Leave your door unlocked.”

Haru frowned as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Rin and Sousuke are home.”

“So?”

“ _Kisumi_ ,” Haru said, his tone hard.

Kisumi chuckled as he ran his fingers through Haru’s hair with eyes hungry. He moved his face closer to Haru’s, and Haru felt his heart thump. The music of the club was starting again, and it thumped louder throughout the floors, but Haru could hear and feel Kisumi’s soft breathing perfectly. He nibbled Haru’s earlobe -- something Kisumi had taken a _delight to --_  and Haru felt his face burn up.

“Tell them you’re expecting a good, hard fuck.”

He smirked when Haru’s breath hitched and he teasingly kissed Haru’s neck.

“Leave your door unlocked,” he whispered once more as his fingers grazed Haru’s bare stomach, walking away confidently.

Haru watched him, and even though there was a bigger, nagging problem in the back of his head, the rest of his body was reacting in ways that were so familiar to him, he couldn’t possibly make it stop. He walked back to his room and shut the door quietly before he threw his ‘work clothes’ aside. He waited until he was dressed in his slacks and his button-up shirt before he looked in the mirror, and he saw that his pupils were blown wide.

No matter how much he knew he didn’t love Kisumi, he couldn’t deny the reactions his body had when Kisumi touched him. He washed his face with cold water in his own personal bathroom, cleaning the residues of concealer and glitter. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, grabbing his duffle bag and leaving the room, securing it shut and locking it. Kisumi was entertaining a few overly drunk men when Haru came out front, but upon seeing the blue-eyed man leaving, he gave his most wicked smile and Haru knew -- he would be getting no sleep tonight. 

* * *

The streets of Tokyo were painted with silence and traffic lights that flickered green and red every few minutes. Every ten minutes, a car or two would pass, filling Haru’s ears for only a few seconds, before he was alone again. His body felt fatigued and he knew it had more to do with the substances he injected into his body than all the dancing -- Kisumi liked to give him drugs that involved a quick high, and a longer-lasting low, after all. He had grown used to that much physical activity -- but he hadn’t grown used to the drug usage. He stuffed one hand into his pocket and continued to walk down the sidewalk, slowing his pace.

Rin and Sousuke had moved in with him in the first year of the unfortunate event.

Being who he was, Haru denied them that right at first. They were nosy and loud, and Haru really didn’t have the energy or patience to deal with a couple like them -- they were like overbearing parents, not that he personally knew what that was like. Originally, Rin was supposed to be the only one to move in, but after cajoling Haru more times than he can count, Sousuke was suddenly showing up at his apartment with boxes of his things. It was unnerving, really. Though, Haru supposed, there was a reason for it.

Turning around the corner to the alleyway that led to his apartment, he found a few older men sitting, and judging by the way they hung their heads, or by the way some of them could barely stand, he knew they were more than just a little bit drunk. They weren’t working men, so Haru really couldn’t understand how they could get their hands on so much alcohol. He took a deep breath, feeling even more defeated than he did just a few hours ago. He walked towards them, his heart beginning to pick up its pace when he knew two of them turned their heads towards him.

“Haru,” one of them slurred before he hiccupped.

 _Keep walking straight_ , he told himself without answering the man.

He began to hear sloppy footsteps against the pavement and without thinking about it, he began to break into a slow jog. They continued to call out his name, and they were getting louder too. They didn’t care that they would wake up other people -- they wanted Haru. He wasn’t sure how they figured out his name -- perhaps from the many times Rin yelled at Haru to hurry up in the mornings in the bathtub -- but he didn’t like it one bit. He saw the steps that led up to his home where Rin was probably waiting, worried sick, when he heard the men behind him stop chasing after him. Just as he began climbing the steps, he whirled around so that it was just enough for him to see who it was, and to his surprise, Sousuke stood between him and the men.

“Go away, or I won’t deal with you quietly,” Sousuke muttered to them, not even looking at Haru.

Taking his chance, he quickly ran up the stairs and fell in through the front door, not expecting it to be already open. Sousuke was downstairs, after all, and he never let Rin keep the door open if he wasn’t inside the apartment. Brushing off his knees, Haru walked towards the kitchen where Rin sat at the dining table, drinking something from a mug. His expression was somber, and because Haru absolutely _hated_ talking to Rin when they were both having a bad night, he began to go to his room to wait for Kisumi.

“Haru,” Rin said, his tone serious.

Although he didn’t feel like talking, he slowly walked into the kitchen, standing across from where Rin sat. He waited for more words to come out, but Rin just stared at him, his eyes hollow. He had always known that Rin was emotional, but surely enough, he wasn’t _unreasonable_ \-- he didn’t have as many bad mood swings as he used to, back when Sousuke was away from him. Haru leaned against the chair cautiously, worried of what made Rin so worried.

“It’s two-thirty in the morning,” Rin whispered, “why are you just getting back now?”

There came no answer from Haru, but he propped himself in the chair before him now, resting against the back as Rin leaned forward. They stared at each other -- Rin with that fiery gaze of his, and Haru as complacent as ever. Rin began saying a bunch of words all strung together and to be fair, they were both tired and could use some sleep. Yet, Haru couldn’t understand why Rin looked like he wanted to punch something.

“You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” Haru blinked, realizing what was being said.

“Coming home so late. Do you know how worried Sousuke gets?”

Haru was resisting the urge to roll his eyes, because he knew that even if given a million years, there was no way _Sousuke_ would be worried about him. He leaned on the kitchen table, resting his head in his palm.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Why can’t you just quit?”

“It’s not easy.”

“Well, _make_ it easy. Do you like coming home every night with those guys down there?”

Without even looking at him, Haru knew he was rubbing his temples in the way that he did when he was dealing with a stressful situation. He sighed a few times, and Haru knew he was trying his best not to sniffle. Even though he and Rin fought a lot, Haru still cared about him -- he still didn’t like it when Rin cried.

“Haru, I know it’s hard.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean it. I know that since you lost him --”

“Rin.”

“You need to let it out.”

“No, I don’t.”

Averting his eyes, Haru saw the fervor, the sadness, in Rin’s eyes. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Sousuke’s footsteps thumped softly against the wooden floor. Haru waited and as Sousuke took his seat next to Rin, he couldn’t help but feel like he was the teenage son of two overbearing parents. He watched Rin stand up to get more water and Sousuke cleared his throat somewhat irritably.

“You should’ve called,” he said, not even bothering to look at Haru.

“It’s not your job to take care of me.”

“Yes it is.”

“You only came here because Rin asked you to.”

“ _Haru_!” Rin snapped from the sink, the expression on his face offended.

“He asked me to look out for you, Nanase.”

“Well, I didn’t ask you to.”

Silence filled the room, and it wasn’t the kind that Haru was used to. It wasn’t the kind where they were all worrying about their own problems -- it was the kind that pierced through Haru’s ears and made him feel like running far, far away from them. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a long breath.

“Nanase,” Sousuke said, softer this time, “you can’t keep burying things.”

“He’s right, Haru. That’s why we’re here.”

“You’re here because you can’t leave me alone.”

“Do you remember _why_ we can’t leave you alone?” Rin shouted, “it’s because when you’re alone, you _do_ things to hurt yourself! I know you can’t deal with this, Haru, with him suddenly --”

“Rin, _shut up_ ,” Haru spat, his voice low and lethal.

Once more, a deafening silence filled the kitchen with the three of them staring at each other. Haru wasn’t stupid -- he knew that Rin was looking out for him and was making sure he wasn’t making any decisions that would ruin him for the rest of his life. Rin knew, and he understood, that Haru couldn’t just _stop_ working for Kisumi. He knew the consequences -- and yet, he was asking Haru to quit, simply for the reason that he could sleep easier at night. Haru _knew_ he was being a little unreasonable, and maybe a little bit childish towards the people who were generous enough to take care of him -- but he had his own reasons to be that way. He slowly stood up and pushed his chair in, whispering goodnight before he began walking towards his room again, his duffle bag clutched tightly in his palm. He stopped in his tracks, remembering the front door.

“Oh, by the way,” he said, just loud enough for them to hear, “leave the door unlocked. I’m expecting someone.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Haru begins spiraling into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry this is so late ahhh it took me forever to come up with how to end the chapter but ya here it is and as promised the kisuharu smut yeee

It wasn’t even two hours later when a light knock was heard at Haru’s door. He flipped on the light switch, rubbed the back of his neck and unlocked the door, pulling it open slowly so that it didn’t creak. Not like that mattered anyway, since Rin and Sousuke knew what he did behind closed doors in the middle of the night. He opened the door to a mischievous grin and thirsty, purple eyes. Haru didn’t even have time to open his mouth before Kisumi pushed him into the room, closing the door behind him.

“It’s been a long time,” Kisumi husked as he dimmed the bedroom’s lights.

Haru bit his lip when Kisumi pinned him against the wall. They stared at each other for just a few seconds, before Haru allowed his head to dive forward and give the pink-haired man a hard kiss, along with the the reward of a little bit of lip-nibbling -- just the way he liked it. Kisumi pressed himself closer and Haru groaned at the way he mercilessly and tantalizingly ground their hips together. Slowly, Haru began to feel a thirst he hadn’t felt in months. He could feel Kisumi’s lips spread into a grin and he knew -- the man was _smug_.

“You’re _eager_ ,” Kisumi whispered between kisses.

“Shut up,” Haru panted when his neck was showered with sucks and nibbles.

Kisumi was truly a wonder with his hands and it was almost as though he had mapped out the entirety of Haru’s body, grazing his fingers along Haru’s ribs, or pressing against his waist, or nibbling along his collarbone. Haru began to feel a little sweaty, and as though reading his thoughts, Kisumi lifted Haru’s arms and ran his palms along his side, before pulling his shirt off, throwing it to the floor. He sighed as he laved his tongue once more at Haru’s neck, slowly working his way down and nibbling in places he knew made the shorter man burst out with his short, quick whimpers.

Haru gulped as he felt Kisumi’s lips ghost over the waistband of his cotton pants.

“W-wait,” he panted, threading his fingers through Kisumi’s hair.

“What is it?”

“Shirt.”

“Huh?”

“Your _shirt_. Don’t play dumb,” Haru groaned.

Grinning, Kisumi stood from where he was just on his knees and faced Haru, his face so close. Haru held his breath to keep from reacting so outwardly, but that did nothing and instead, it caused him to moan into Kisumi’s mouth when their lips clashed, inadvertently wanting more -- yearning for more. Kisumi’s hands were on his lower back, pushing their bodies closer together, and as though in a frenzy, Haru began rutting at the cotton shirt on his lover’s back with his cold fingers, pulling it upwards harshly in an attempt to get him to hurry up. Kisumi chuckled against his mouth, moving his tongue slowly and deliberately making Haru whine. Pulling back, Kisumi dragged out the time it actually took for him to take off his shirt, noting immediately when Haru’s eyes moved up and down his torso, pausing at his shoulders. Without warning, Haru was lifted and placed gently on the bed with Kisumi hovering over him, his own breaths short and shallow.

“Haru,” Kisumi whispered, “tell me how you want it.”

Haru froze. Normally, Kisumi didn’t ask him this question. He would make sure Haru was comfortable, but for the most part, he did what he wanted. Not wanting Kisumi to see what was really hidden in his eyes, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. He snaked his hands to Kisumi’s behind and pulled him forward, making their lower bodies touch. The man sighed shakily when Haru rutted their hips slowly together, a delicious fire being kindled in their breaths and their eyes. He kissed his neck and worked his way up to the earlobe, tugging at it gently between his lips. Haru breathed softly as he came to his decision.

“Make me fall apart,” he whispered.

To other people, this sounded like a plea for someone to be cruel, but for Haru, it meant the opposite. He wanted to _feel_ everything and he wanted it to reach every single part of his body. He tried his best to appear kinder, and even maybe a little naive, just for the sake of tricking himself into feeling something. Kisumi smiled and leaned down to kiss him softly, and for just a split second, Haru felt as though his heart was being torn open. Bit by bit, his heart was coming apart and he tried desperately to ignore it as Kisumi agonizingly rubbed his palm in circles against Haru’s waking erection, watching Haru’s face the entire time.

Haru _knew_ this tenderness from a place that wasn’t here, but that was probably why he asked Kisumi to do it this way.

Positioning himself so that he was comfortable, Kisumi began to nibble earnestly at Haru’s pale skin, though it certainly wasn’t enough to mark him. He brushed his lips against Haru’s jugular, and as though it was a reflex, he held down the wrists that were about to come up to rest in his hair. Tonight was all about _Haru’s_ needs, and even though he liked it when Haru played with his hair, he wanted to give the shorter male his full attention. Light pants and small giggles came out of Haru’s mouth when Kisumi reached his shoulders -- his most ticklish yet one of his most sensitive spots that didn’t involve his nether regions.

Thoughts raced through Haru’s head as Kisumi’s thumbs pressed against his hips and he wrapped his tongue around his nipples, sucking softly -- knowing that Haru didn’t quite appeal to the idea of his nipples being sucked. Still, Kisumi tried to give him everything during sex, especially when Haru asked him to go slow. Without really wanting to understand why, Haru _preferred_ it slow. When Kisumi took his time in undressing him, or kissing him, or wrapping his whole mouth around Haru’s engorged erection -- Haru could see a glint in his eyes. Maybe that’s what he desired to see --

Someone with feeling.

His attention snapped back to Kisumi when he felt tugging at his cotton pants. Haru hoisted himself up on his elbows and kept his eye contact with the man grinning widely, his expression devious. Wiggling his hips just the slightest bit, Haru watched with yearning as Kisumi hooked his fingers into the fabric, peeling it from the male’s hips, lining wet kisses along his bones. Haru bit his lip as he watched Kisumi’s eyes widen when his hard erection sprang up and slapped against his stomach. Sighing, Kisumi kissed his inner thighs, and moved closer to the back of his knees, his eyes now fully clouded with profane things -- and Haru could almost see them. He knew Kisumi loved when he was on his back, because that was when he could see Haru’s face as he fell apart, as he begged, as he arched his back.

“Breathe,” Kisumi whispered.

Taking a deep breath, Haru allowed his eyes to flutter close and with that, Kisumi trailed a long lick from the base to the tip of the now leaking erection. He probed at the vein with the tip of his tongue slowly, teasingly, and just as Haru’s hips jerked, Kisumi smirked. He didn’t even have to crack an eye open to see that Kisumi’s mouth was right near his tip, and he was waiting. Haru raised his arms and rested them over his eyes, and in that moment, Kisumi swallowed him whole, though his pace was extremely and utterly slow. Haru quickly hoisted himself up on his elbows and watched as Kisumi bobbed his head up and down, keeping his eyes on Haru’s face. His hands came up to fondle his testicles and Haru threw his head back, panting. He felt himself begin to come undone when Kisumi teasingly sucked and pulled back, stopping at the tip.

Knowing Haru’s body as well as he did, Kisumi swirled his tongue around the tip, being particularly obvious about laving up the precome that was already dripping down Haru’s erection and onto the sheets. Whining, Haru threaded his fingers through Kisumi’s hair and pulled his face closer, and as though trying to push Haru over the edge, he hummed. Haru grit his teeth and even boldly pressed Kisumi’s face closer, but when he started to feel the man pull away, Haru allowed his head to hit the pillow as he panted softly.

“Do you want this to end so quickly?”

“No.”

“Then be patient.”

“You’re being too slow.”

“Do I have to use the ribbon?”

Smirking, Haru nodded towards the drawer. He waited as Kisumi pulled out a red ribbon and sat on Haru’s chest, knowing fully well that his own tented pants were right before Haru’s mouth. He sighed and Kisumi chuckled as he brought Haru’s wrists together and tied them tightly to the railings in the headboard, though certainly not tight enough for it to hurt him. He kissed Haru’s lips and licked into his mouth, allowing their tongues to dance and wanted to just enjoy the warmth of the other’s mouth, but Haru groaned. Pulling away, Kisumi looked at him with curiosity.

“My dick isn’t going to enjoy it if you wait any longer,” Haru said.

“You sure about that?”

Like a cat, Kisumi was already in between Haru’s legs again, and instead of going straight to Haru’s leaking erection, he nipped at his inner thighs and left light marks that would disappear within the next few hours. His lips ghosted over Haru’s entrance and when the shorter male’s breath hitched, he knew he was doing something right. He blew softly against the hole and Haru groaned almost too loudly, to which Kisumi planted a soft kiss to his inner thigh in apology. He went back to his work, sucking quickly at the tip, then slowly, adjusting his pace to the sounds Haru allowed out of his mouth. Haru never spoke much, and as much as he hated the noises he made during sex, he knew Kisumi _loved_ them. He wasn’t the first, either, but Haru didn’t let himself think about that.

“God, you’re amazing,” Kisumi whispered as he kissed the tip.

Swallowing Haru whole again, he bobbed his head up and down slowly, being sure to suck as he went along. He pressed his tongue on Haru’s veins and sucked at the tip for the longest period of time before Haru’s hips began jerking again, and he pulled himself off of Haru, waiting for the reaction to die down. Haru glared at him, but seeing his arms tied the way they were to the bed made Kisumi smirk in the most devious way. Almost regretting it, Haru wiggled his hips again in a silent plea.

“You really like it when I suck you, don’t you?” Kisumi husked.

Haru nodded weakly, and he knew his face was filled with unadulterated want.

“Do you like coming in my mouth?”

Without giving time to actually answer, Kisumi already had his mouth back over Haru’s length, sucking harder and faster now, purposely and deliberately swirling his tongue along Haru’s slit, and God _forbid_ Haru was beginning to feel a little lightheaded. All the right hormones were going to his brain at the right time, and Haru tugged at the ribbon, wanting so much to push Kisumi’s face closer to him -- wanting so badly to shove his dick into that eager mouth. Kisumi smiled at him, his mouth stretched even more over his erection, and the long-lasting feeling that had been in Haru’s stomach was beginning to build up. Kisumi pulled away again, and Haru saw more precome drip down his length. Kisumi watched with hunger in his eyes, and Haru panted -- maybe even groaned a little bit.

Kisumi kissed his stomach softly, and his lips left cold spots in the places he touched. He threw a leg over his shoulder and sucked and licked and nibbled there for a while before taking Haru again in his mouth, watching Haru’s eyes as he hummed and the fingers of his free hand teased his hole. He quickly pulled himself off Haru and moved up, allowing Haru to suck on three of his fingers before he moved downward again, moaning as he took Haru whole one last time, pushing his fingers into Haru. It was almost too much, Haru thought. He was aware of the fact that Kisumi knew _exactly_ where his prostate was, but he was teasing -- teasing so much that Haru was feeling more than a little impatient. Kisumi closed his eyes and Haru knew that this was it -- this was when Kisumi would give him what he wanted. He began sucking and licking faster, and his fingers began thrusting deeper and harder, and Haru began to moan loudly, his hands tugging harshly at the headboard. His stomach coiled and recoiled, and when Kisumi’s tongue swept once more across his tip --

He stopped and pulled his mouth off Haru with a loud _pop._

“ _Kisumi_ ,” Haru whined, a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

Smirking mischievously, and without warning, Kisumi sucked on Haru’s tip at different paces, starting slowly and then building up. He slowed down when Haru began panting loudly -- and Haru knew that when he began doing this, Kisumi would eventually have mercy and let him come, despite the fact that Sousuke or Rin might wake up in the process. But Haru didn’t care. He subconsciously tugged at the ribbon that bound him, and seeing this, Kisumi didn’t lick _faster_ but he did lick harder. He teased Haru’s slit and his eyes moved to Haru’s face, and he watched. He made wet noises with his mouth and Haru felt as though he was going insane. He began to raise his hips, but he felt immediate pressure and when he looked, it was Kisumi’s hands holding onto his hips bruisingly -- and yet, he was still watching Haru’s face.

“Oh god,” Haru began, “oh go-- Kisumi, mor-- _oh_ ,” he moaned.

His hips were fighting to thrash against the other’s hands but the man was strong and he held his own. At the very last second, Kisumi bobbed his head downwards and sucked at the base of Haru’s erection, and, as though expecting the rumble, he _smiled_. Haru moaned through and through as he came into the willing mouth before him, his own lips dry. Haru finished with a loud moan that sounded similar to Kisumi’s name, but it was too garbled in his throat for even him to be sure. Kisumi waited until he was finished, which incidentally, wasn’t for a while. He placed a short kiss to Haru’s inner thighs and untied the ribbon, tossing it onto the bedside before he laid on top of Haru, kissing him and letting him taste himself.

“You’re not done,” Haru panted.

“Tonight’s about you.”

“You’re generous lately.”

He laughed, a sound that rang in Haru’s ears.

“Maybe I feel like you need it.”

“Don’t spare me,” Haru deadpanned.

Leaning in closer, the taller man nibbled at Haru’s earlobe before biting just beneath his ear, leaving a tiny mark. He smirked against the pale skin.

“I _wasn’t_. I love watching you come, especially when my mouth is filled with you.”

If it were possible, Haru might have just gotten another erection. He tried to push Kisumi off, but was a little disappointed when the man got up and began looking for his shirt. Haru watched as he shrugged it on and ran his fingers through his hair. Haru thought for a second -- he knew someone else that had that habit too, and the thought made his heart heavy. He cleared his throat in an attempt to chase away green eyes, to try and remember purple ones.

“You okay?” Kisumi asked.

“Yeah. Want me to walk you to the door?”

“Only if you’re not tired.”

It took a little bit of effort, but after he slipped into a hoodie and back into his sweat pants, Haru pushed Kisumi towards the front door. Their lips brushed upon each other’s and Kisumi’s hands began to wander, which was Haru’s signal to kick him out. They said their see you laters and Haru waited for the man to leave the compound before he closed the door completely, locking it. He rested his back against the door and allowed his thoughts to collect. When the high of having an orgasm was finally over, Haru’s heart felt heavy again and he knew that his throat was starting to fill with sobs. He was having a harder time dealing with this than he thought he would. Though, to an extent, it was an insult to his past self if he thought this would be easy, even after three years.

“Nanase,” Sousuke’s voice came from the kitchen, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Kisumi was here, wasn’t he?”

WIthout answering, Haru walked towards the kitchen and sat at the dining table where Sousuke was, drinking a glass of water. He held his head in his hands and tried to compose himself. To be frank, Sousuke saw this side of Haru more than Rin ever did -- and that was only because Haru was extremely careful around Rin. He was the more emotional of the two, after all. In a way, Sousuke made it easier for Haru to react to things like this -- because he never _said_ anything, and he just let Haru feel whatever the hell it was he needed to feel. Peeking from between his fingers, Haru could see a hint of worry in those teal eyes.

“If you’re worried about Rin, you should go cuddle him.”

“I’m not worried about him. I’m worried about you.”

Haru scoffed.

“Do you know what you’re doing, Nanase?”

“I’m moving on.”

“You’re doing _anything_ but that.”

“What do _you_ know about moving on? You waited for Rin, even after he went to Australia.”

Despite the fact that it was the truth that Sousuke still held out hope for Rin even though there was no promise of a future, Haru knew he was being unnecessarily harsh. More silence filled the room and he was expecting Sousuke to lash out at him, to put him in his place, but he merely sighed and sat back in his chair. He kept his eyes on Haru, and for just a split second, Haru chuckled. The sound was still heard by Sousuke though, and he raised an eyebrow in question. He called for Haru and the laughter came tumbling out even more, though not loud enough to wake Rin.

“What’s so funny?” Sousuke whispered, his tone confused.

“Who knew that this would be so hard?” Haru laughed the tearless sobs away.

Multiple times in his life, Haru had to face varying levels of grief -- he had grown up without parents, and that was a grief that was ingrained into him. He lost his grandmother when he was in his teen years, and that had been difficult for him. It was a sadness that sewed itself onto his heart, but he was able to keep walking forward with the help of a large, warm hand. He always took it, always followed it wherever it took him, but then one day, he lost that, too. He hid his face in his palms and his shoulders moved as he tried his best to sound as though he was laughing -- but the pain in his chest was making it difficult.

“He was your best friend. You can’t seriously think you’d be okay if you just ignored your own heart.”

As though on cue, his body completely stopped moving when he registered Sousuke’s words. He placed his hands on the table, staring at them with uncertainty as though it was a Pandora’s box, and he was waiting for it to open by itself. He didn’t want to remember the night that everything changed, the night that he felt as though his world was coming crashing down on him. He couldn’t lift the weight, and there was no way he was going to ask for help. Of course, this was considering the fact that Haru thought this was his problem alone, and maybe he had been a little selfish because this man was _his_ best friend, _his_ lover. Nonetheless, he wasn’t the only person affected by the disappearance.

The sound of a glass being pushed towards him brought Haru’s attention back, and he merely registered Sousuke’s broad back walking towards the bedroom where he and Rin slept.

 _Just like his back_ , Haru thought.

Fighting emotions had always been one of Haru’s specialties, but this was entirely different than fighting emotions -- this was more like trying to fight an entire existence. Haru slumped over the dining table, knowing he wasn’t strong enough. Even if he _tried_ to erase the presence that kept him safe, that he loved, that he treasured for so many years. He thought back to his favorite smile -- the one that spread across supple pink lips modestly, the one that made his heart melt. Slowly, he started to remember other features -- those fierce yet gentle green eyes, the ones that reminded him of the woods and of life itself -- and he remembered his voice.

Without taking notice, Haru slumped over the dining table and fell asleep, the cobwebs of his mind filled with nothing but memories and shadows of a person he loved more than the waves crashing against the shore.

* * *

The next morning came harshly when the clanging of pots and pans rang loudly in Haru’s ears. He groaned as he came to and his blurry vision didn’t have to adjust for him to know it was Rin trying to cook pancakes. He watched, amused, when Rin placed the pan on the stove and turned on the gas, resting his hands on his hips. He clucked his tongue and sighed a few times, not satisfied with whatever it was he saw. He crouched onto the floor and opened a cabinet below the stove. Haru’s eyes widened when he saw the glass bottle of oil in Rin’s hands.

“I thought you were making pancakes,” he says softly, but it didn’t stop Rin from jolting.

“Jesus _Christ_ , Haru!”

“You don’t need oil.”

“I know, jeez. I’m making bacon for Sousuke.”

“ _Just_ for Sousuke?” Haru teased, mainly because he liked seeing Rin getting flustered.

“Well. You can have some too, if you want,” he answered, then, “if you forgive me.”

“What?” Haru asked, more than a little surprised. Usually, he was the one who apologized to Rin.

“I was a dick last night.”

“You’re a dick all the time.”

“I’m trying to _apologize_ , Haru,” Rin rolled his eyes after he placed a few pieces of bacon in the pan.

Even though he found the concept absolutely foreign, Haru leaned back in his chair and watched Rin’s face, showing his friend that he was listening intently. Rin flipped the pieces of bacon a few times and put them in a plate, setting them down on the table before Haru, his expression unreadable. He bit his lip and the stress in his brow relaxed as he took his seat across the blue-eyed man.

“I’m sorry it didn’t get any easier,” Rin began, “and I’m sorry I was so inconsiderate of your feelings.”

Reluctantly, Haru nodded and accepted the apology, which at least made Rin’s shoulders relax. As though on cue, Sousuke entered the kitchen and planted a kiss on Rin’s head before he opened the fridge and poured himself a glass of orange juice. Chatter filled the room as they all talked, and Haru found that Sousuke was a little nicer in his approach, a little more receptive to him when he spoke -- and it felt hopeful. Somehow, Haru made the decision that for now, if Rin and Sousuke were his family, then he could be at peace. At least, for most of the day.

Both Rin and Sousuke had been gone for two hours when Haru was alone in his room, ravaging through his bedside drawer for what Kisumi liked to call ‘the good stuff.’ It was a quick process -- Haru had become a professional at sniffing powder up his nose without coughing -- and he sat back on his bed, waiting for the effects to kick in. Everyday, Haru tried to cut back - he’d snort twenty-five milligrams one day, then ten the next day. He thought of it as keeping himself in check, though obviously it wasn’t working, and maybe he was just trying to lie to himself.

He had just snorted sixty milligrams, after all.

It was almost a good thing that his body was so used to drastic changes in his doses, but in the back of his mind, he knew what that really meant. It didn’t mean strength, nor was it something to be proud of. Nonetheless, he placed the bag of powder back into his drawer, shutting it tight. He took a quick shower and brushed his teeth, ready to lounge around the house with perhaps a good book, when the house phone rang. He walked over to the console table in the family room and picked up, ready to hear Rin ask him to send something he’d forgotten at home, but to Haru’s surprise, it wasn’t Rin. Or Sousuke, for that matter.

“Hello?” he said, his voice low.

“Hello, is this Matsuoka Rin-san?”

“He’s not in right now. May I know who’s speaking?”

“Ah, this is his realtor Amakata Miho.”

 _Realtor?_ Haru thought, his heart already dropping to his stomach.

“I see,” he said slowly, “should I tell him you called?”

“That would be great, thanks! Have him give me a call, yeah?”

“Will do,” Haru answered as he shut the phone off.

There have been different levels of disappointment that Haru had ever felt in his life, but he had abandonment issues that he _never_ thought Rin would contribute to, if given the chance. He wrote a quick memo and stuck it next to the phone, his handwriting messy and quick -- as though he didn’t put much thought into what he was writing down. He slipped into his running shoes and grabbed a canister in the kitchen, filling it with ice cold water. The effects of his morning dose should have settled in by the time he started running, and he felt as though his lungs were on fire. He fought through the loud roaring in his ears and tried to suppress the dread that wouldn’t leave his stomach.

Slipping into a steady rhythm, Haru kept running and refused to stop, even when he felt his heart scream -- to no one in particular -- for help.

**Author's Note:**

> Send your questions/enquiries to nsfwmakoharu.tumblr.com/ask !!


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